


Secret

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 05:16:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5899723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean prepares to talk to Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret

Dean Winchester had many secrets. Most of them were deep, and dark, and the stuff of the average person’s nightmares. Some of them were to keep other people safe and he would take them to grave. Some of them were personal, and never, ever to be revealed.

But some of them were revealed anyway.

Dean’s childhood had lasted all of four years. When his mother had died, he had become an adult; who else was going to look out for his brother while their father alternated between being a shell of a human and a walking brewery? He hid behind a facade of  _ that’s just the way it had to be _ , but sometimes, just sometimes, he longed so badly for the life he’d never had, that it felt like the air was being pressed from his lungs.

Dean was a thief, and it settled heavily on his stomach at how easy it was for him. When they were kids, shoplifting to keep them fed was a secret he’d kept from Sam for as long as he could. He was too good at it to have it not go unnoticed when they’d reunited and started hunting together. It had been necessary to their survival at times both in the past and in the present. True, he never stole from people unless sharking them at a table counted. And yes, a hunting life wasn't really synonymous with holding down an honest nine to five, and no, he didn't ever regret saving people on the whole. But the guilt still hit him squarely in the chest sometimes.

Dean was an instinctive caregiver. Those that were on the receiving end of his care let him keep his secret, basking in its benefits nonetheless. He’d gruff it out, pretend that it was an inconvenience or something he did with no tolerance for. But whether Sam was six years old and snuffling or twenty six and recovering from a fight with a shapeshifter, Dean was there. Supporting, propping up, sneaking him his favourite food and turning down bed covers with a gruffness belying his nurturing instinct. He was even worse with Cas, but that in itself was a secret he fought harder to hold on to.

Or he thought he could.

Dean was in love with an angel. Former angel. Angel again. However you looked at it, and whatever form Cas took, Dean was in love with Cas. He fought against it, would change the subject so quickly that he gave himself whiplash, and lived in a constant limbo of caring too much while pretending not to care at all.

It was Dean’s most tiring secret of all.

He fought against it even though he’d lay awake chastising himself for the confused look on Cas’ face when he’d got close, then rapidly pulled away.

He denied it, to everyone who made jokes or passing comments on how they behaved together, and to himself, because denial was something he did so well.

He ignored it, pretending it was something that would go away in time.

Only it didn't. It grew in intensity, an ever present glow in his chest that alternated between warming in comfort and burning in fear. How could it not, after all they’d been through together, after everything they’d done?

It wasn't so much the fear that Cas was a guy - and yes, he was a guy now, since Jimmy was long, long gone. Sure, Dean had never thought himself to be gay, and he would curl up in fear at the noises his father would be making about this. But the truth was, that didn't really bother him at all. He was attracted to Cas, the whole package, and whatever that entailed. Even if he didn't have the guts to do anything about it.

It wasn't even because the timing was always going to be off between them, always a new battle to fight. Even when things were at their very worst, there would always be time. They would always make time for something as important as this.

It was because this would be  _ it _ . This would be everything he’d ever want, for the rest of his life. It was because Cas made him whole. And that was even before he let himself give into the idea of Cas in the first place.

And that was something very, very frightening to Dean. To allow himself to want, and to allow himself to have something he wanted, just for himself, was unthinkable. Downright terrifying in fact.

Dean watches Cas now, letting his eyes linger a very long time as they work their way up every inch of him as he stands talking with Sam. Sam must be saying something funny because Cas’ face has morphed into that wide grin that Dean loves so much, and he watches how the laughter ripples through him as he leans easily back against the Impala.

Dean smiles to himself, wordlessly taking the groceries he’s just bought and wedging them in the trunk in between weapons and salt and things he’s honestly forgotten are in there.

He thinks about the food he’s going to cook tonight because Cas has told him it’s his favourite. He twists the bottle of syrup that he intends to use on tomorrow morning’s pancakes until it’s standing securely. He blushes when he realises he’s playing along to the adage  _ a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach _ . And then, he decides, he adamantly does not care that that is what he’s doing.

Tonight. Tonight he’s going to talk to Cas. It’s going to be awkward, stilted, and probably go all ways of not-the-way-he’s-planned. But he has a sneaking suspicion that it’s going to be perfect anyway. In their nothing’s-perfect world, this thing between them is the most right anything has ever felt. Even if it does terrify him.

Dean moves around to the driver’s side and catches Cas’ eye across the roof of the car. Cas smiles again, and the smile says  _ just for you _ , and  _ I'm happy _ , and  _ let’s go home _ .

Dean smiles back, holding his gaze for a moment before climbing in. He breathes out a long, steadying breath, then starts the engine.

_ Tonight _ , he thinks to himself.

  
  



End file.
